


Departure

by TJS



Category: HuGっと！プリキュア | Hug tto! Precure
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 18:27:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17391407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TJS/pseuds/TJS
Summary: Life is full of meetings and partings, of love and loss, of heartbreak and healing. Never leave anything unsaid, for you could come to regret it later...more than you can ever imagine.





	Departure

**Author's Note:**

> AN: The series 'In Our Alstroemeria Garden' is set in a slightly different timeline from the series 'The Idiot Effect.' I'll go into detail in a future Aside, but suffice to say that while the timelines share many events, Hana is currently single in 'In Our Alstroemeria Garden'. Departure is set some time after 'Hana's Big Mistake'.

Listol knocked on the door of George's private quarters. "Sir, are you in?" When he received no response, he carefully creaked open the door to see that the room was, in fact, empty and a note had been left on the table in the entryway, addressed to Listol. He knew what it said already, but he still picked it up and read it anyway.

_Listol-_

_I'm attending a yozakura tonight. Please tend the alstroemerias for me._

Listol sighed and tucked the note into his jacket. "...I suppose it is that day, isn't it?" He glanced at the calendar on the wall near the door. "March 19th...I doubt you'll be back today, then." Listol turned away and headed down the hall from George's quarters. "...And I doubt we'll be launching an attack this week. Perhaps that's for the best."

 

*     *     *

 

George had spent enough time walking the streets of this town that he knew every one by heart. The upside to that was the ability to sort of autopilot to anywhere he wanted to go within Hagukumi, which freed up his mind to think.

The downside was that it freed up his mind to think.

And George's thoughts were rarely pleasant. With everything he'd lost, everything he could _still_ potentially lose, George often found himself thinking about both, especially the former. And now, as he stood in front of a florist's shop near the park where the _yozakura_ would be taking place in a little while, he couldn't help but think about _her_. Often he could spend hours in a florist with her, poring over every little detail of every flower. George loved flowers as is, and having someone he could talk about them with at length, who would listen enthusiastically, ask questions, actually _engage_ instead of just letting him ramble to placate him...she was truly someone he had treasured.

 _But she's gone,_ said that niggling voice in the back of his head. _Even if you fix the future, you can't guarantee she'll come back._

Oh, he knew that. And he pressed on, even knowing that any little thing he did could separate them forever in the future. He simply wanted to save her from that horrible fate...nothing more, nothing less. He loved her dearly, he truly did...and if ensuring her safety, her happiness, cost him his chance to be with her...then so be it. And there was the matter of--

"Sir?" The florist's voice snapped George out of his trance. "Here you are, sir. The bouquet of purple hyacinths you ordered."

"Ah, of course. Thank you." George accepted the bouquet. "You received my advance, yes?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you for your business." The florist bowed deeply.

"Thank you for continuing to share the many emotions that flowers carry." George bowed slightly and went on autopilot, heading toward the park.  _She_ would be there...he knew she would be. That girl wasn't one to miss a _yozakura_ when the cherry blossoms were so bold and beautiful. George was early, but he knew _she_ would be, too. That girl was very predictable; he knew she'd try to get a perfect seat. He entered the park from the west side, furthest from the fountain. His tired eyes scanned back and forth slowly as he walked, searching for her...and there she was, wearing a light parka and fidgeting with her hair. It had grown back a fair bit, he noticed, since that incident with the barber's chair. He approached as quietly as usual, stopping a respectful distance away so she didn't feel intimidated or pressured. "It's a lovely night, isn't it?"

As expected, Hana immediately whipped around to face him while getting up and taking a couple steps back before scowling at him. "You...what do you want, George Kurai?"

"Please, relax. I'm not here to try and get you to join me tonight. I, like you, am just here to enjoy the _yozakura_." George shifted the bouquet in his hands. "Purple hyacinth...in flower language, it's an apology, a plea for forgiveness." He held it out to Hana with a bit of a strained smile. "For you. I pray you'll accept it."

Hana clenched her jaw so hard that George could have sworn he heard her bones creaking and popping from the strain. "...What is it with you...?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

Hana angrily swatted the bouquet out of George's hands, much to his shock. "You always just show up out of nowhere talking about flower language and trying to give me flowers...that's creepy! And besides, why would I ever want any flowers from _you_ of all people?!" Hana accusingly jabbed her finger at his face. "I don't trust you not to try and pull something if I let my guard down!"

George managed to regain his bearings enough to speak. "Please, relax for a mo--"

"And on top of that!" She was positively _shaking_ with anger, a fact that once again rendered George shocked into silence. "After everything you've done to people in this town, how many people have been hurt at your orders...you have the _gall_ , the _audacity_ , to come to me and try to beg for forgiveness with flowers?! Screw you!"

George had recovered his composure again, but saw little point in trying to get a word in. She was angry, and he knew she was one of the most obstinate people out there when angry.

"If you come anywhere near me again, I'm gonna call the cops on you! Got it?!" Hana backed away a couple more steps, turning away a bit as if preparing to run. "...And by the way...I'll _never_ forgive you." With that, she bolted away.

Of all the harsh words she'd said to him over the course of their encounters, those last four hurt the most. _I'll never forgive you._ Really, those were probably the worst words to hear...the notion that you've done something so awful so as to permanently damage or even destroy a relationship...very little hurt more than that. George stooped down and carefully gathered up the scattered remains of the hyacinth bouquet and regretfully disposed of it in the nearest trash can. They'd been smashed beyond hope of repair...it was, unfortunately, all he could do.

He sat on the bench where Hana had been sitting with a heavy sigh, leaning back and looking up at the sky, where beautiful tones of inky black and lapis lazuli melted into shades of deep orange and pink as the sun finished its journey below the horizon. George remembered a sky just like this one, seen on this same day... _March 19th._ The date held a great and somber significance for him. He dug in his pocket for the old, weathered silver pocket watch he always carried around with him and pressed the button to open it. Like always, it opened to the same image...a cracked glass face beneath which the hands ticked as if nothing was wrong, the old 'G. Kurai' stamped onto the clock face proper above the date, the picture of _her_ taped to the inside of the lid with the numbers '0319' etched below it...George had seen this sight hundreds, thousands of times, and it never ceased to prick his heart with a pang of grief.

"...You were always far better with people than I was." He spoke to the portrait as much as he spoke to himself now. "That's what drew us together in the first place, isn't it?" He sighed deeply once again. "...What would you say to me if you were here? Well, if you were, I'd likely be having this conversation with you face-to-face, hm?" He chuckled dryly and without humor. "...Well, since it's our first _yozakura_ of the year...I suppose we'd best get to reminiscing, shouldn't we? That was a tradition you were always so fond of..." George ran his thumb over _her_ picture, taking everything in. That lovely white sundress, that wide-brimmed sun hat with the pale pink ribbon around it, her closed eyes and brilliant beaming smile that still held a bit of that childish goofiness in it, the wavy magenta hair that fell to her shoulders, the air of exuberance and pure joy at merely being _alive_ that George could almost feel even through this old photograph...

"You truly loved our reminiscent _yozakuras_ , didn't you...Hana?"


End file.
